


Winning Hand

by telperion_15



Series: Poker [2]
Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Established Relationship, Incest, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:37:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don's determined to get his own back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winning Hand

As Don entered the living room he saw that someone had turned on the television and found a baseball game to watch. Charlie had settled himself in one of the armchairs, and was already explaining baseball stats to Megan and Colby, although Don thought he could still detect a faint element of smugness in Charlie’s manner – something that made him only more determined to get his own back on his brother.  


Sitting down as far away from Charlie as possible, although making sure he was still in Charlie’s eye-line, Don asked David for an update on the game and then focused his attention on the television screen, ignoring Charlie completely. He knew this tactic would have just as great an effect on Charlie as if he’d taken to teasing him the way Charlie had been teasing him at the poker table. He knew his brother wouldn’t have been entirely unaffected by what had happened in the kitchen, and Don was taking great pleasure in making Charlie squirm by pretending to be totally oblivious to the fact that Charlie was now horny as hell.

  


Out of the corner of his eye he could see Charlie watching him whenever he thought Colby and Megan wouldn’t notice. Don fought back a smile. Charlie was going to learn what happened when you tried to mess with Don Eppes.

  


Alternately watching the game and discussing it with David for the next twenty minutes, Don put on a good show of being entirely unaware of Charlie’s inability to sit still. In an effort to distract himself, the younger Eppes had gone into full teacher mode, and was moving around the room as he explained the math of baseball to his hapless victims. Even Megan, who was normally quite enthusiastic about Charlie’s numbers, was starting to get a glazed expression.

  


The clatter of glass on wood as Colby knocked over an empty bottle gave Don the perfect excuse to turn his attention away from the game and take pity on his trapped colleagues.

  


“You want another one?” he asked.

  


“Sure, why not?” replied Colby. “Might as well enjoy myself – no work tomorrow, after all.”

  


“For once!” Megan added emphatically.

  


“What about you two?” said Don, looking at Megan and David.

  


“Count me in,” said David, while Megan waved her bottle in agreement.

  


“Charlie, can you help me fetch some more supplies from the garage?” Don asked innocently, interrupting Charlie mid-sentence. “That way we won’t have to keep on going out there.”

  


“But there’s loads of beer in the refrigerator in the kitchen,” said David. “Colby and I saw it when we fetched that round during the card game.”

  


“Oh, you must mean the low-alcohol crap that Dad drinks,” Don lied smoothly. “You took the last of the proper stuff. The rest of it’s out in the garage. Charlie, a hand?”

  


He walked out to the garage, hearing Charlie following at a slight distance.

  


“Don, I…”

  


Don grabbed his brother, shoved him against a chalkboard, and kissed him roughly.

  


“I can’t help thinking,” he muttered huskily, “that as the winner of our little bet you didn’t quite get everything you deserved. I feel like you missed out on something. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want that.”

  


Charlie’s eyes were wide, and his curly hair rustled slightly as he shook his head.

  


“I knew you’d see it my way,” said Don, grinning evilly. He kissed Charlie again, as one hand cupped the bulge in Charlie’s jeans and squeezed lightly.

  


Charlie gasped into Don’s mouth, and Don pulled away slightly.

  


“Oh, you like that, do you?” he purred. Swiftly he undid Charlie’s jeans and pushed his clothing down off his hips, exposing Charlie’s hard cock to the cool air of the garage.

  


Charlie shivered slightly, the movement magnified when Don lightly ran his fingers down Charlie’s erection. Don repeated the action until Charlie’s breath was harsh and panting, and then with no warning wrapped his hand fully around Charlie’s cock and began stroking him slowly. Charlie’s hips bucked forwards and Don shoved him back against the chalkboard again.

  


“Oh no. We’re doing this my way, little brother.”

  


Gripping Charlie’s arm with his free hand, Don leaned forward to murmur in Charlie’s ear.

  


“You like the feel of my hand on your cock, don’t you?”

  


Charlie nodded.

  


“You like me touching you, making you come.”

  


Another nod.

  


“Tell me you like it.”

  


Charlie swallowed. “I like you touching my cock,” he whispered.

  


“Well, that’s good. Because I like it too. I like making you come, shouting my name. Are you going to shout my name today, Charlie?”

  


Mutely, Charlie shook his head.

  


Don tutted and sped up the movement of his hand fractionally. Charlie’s breath hitched.

  


“I bet I can make you shout my name when you come.  Do you think that’s a bet I _will_ win, Charlie?”

  


Charlie just looked at him, pleading with his eyes.

  


“No? You don’t think I’ll win? Well, maybe I’ll have to prove you wrong about that.” Don knew he really _couldn’t_ win this bet – not with David, Colby, and Megan in the house. The garage might be further away than the kitchen, but sound still carried. But he couldn’t resist torturing Charlie this way.

  


“I wanna make you feel good, Charlie. Because you’re a winner, and winners deserve to feel good. But how will I know if you feel good if you don’t _scream_ my name when you come?”

  


The faintest of moans escaped Charlie’s lips.

  


“That’s a good start. But I think we can do better than that, don’t you? Come on, little brother, scream for me.” Don tightened his grip around Charlie’s cock and Charlie made a strangled noise in his throat.

  


“Do you know what else I could do to make you feel good?” Don whispered in his ear. “When the others have gone I could take you upstairs and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for a week. Would you like that?”

  


Frantically, Charlie tried to raise a hand to his mouth, as Don had done earlier. But with Don’s hand gripping one arm, and Don’s body pinning the other one against the chalkboard, he was helpless. Don smirked in amusement as Charlie pressed his lips together, desperately trying not to let any sound escape.

  


“I’m very disappointed in you, little brother,” he muttered. “But I suppose as the winner you can do what you choose.”

  


Placing his lips against Charlie’s ear again, he muttered “come for me, Charlie,” simultaneously flicking his wrist to twist his hand around Charlie’s cock and running his thumb over Charlie’s slit.

  


Charlie’s entire body shuddered, and then he was coming in Don’s hand, his eyes wild and his mouth clamped shut as tightly as it would go. Don could feel Charlie’s legs buckling, the only thing keeping him upright Don’s weight pressing him against the chalkboard.

  


Don held him there until he felt that Charlie’s legs might reasonably be expected to hold him up again, and then stepped away and wiped his hand on a towel snagged from a pile of clean laundry on top of the dryer. He cleaned Charlie up and rearranged his clothing until he looked slightly less like someone who had just had an earth-shattering orgasm, and slightly _more_ like someone who had been rooting around a garage for beer.

  


“Well, I guess we’d better get back before David comes looking for us again,” said Don lightly. “Do we actually have any beer out here, or was I just making that up?”

  


“Er, some,” stuttered Charlie, clearly still trying to rearrange his brain cells to match his clothing.

  


“Well, why don’t you bring some of that in while I fetch some of the ‘low-alcohol’ ones from the refrigerator? Think you can manage that?”

  


Charlie nodded and Don smirked.

  


“How do you feel about winning _now_, little brother?”


End file.
